Chained to inferiority [ Part 2]

People thought of me as a boring person therefore I never had many friends. Every afternoon, after school I would rush home to change into casual clothes, wash my socks, and rush straight to the pots to indulge in the left-overs of the previous night. Food became my best friend and comforter. It allowed me to unburden my anger, pain and deepest frustrations. Food became the only thing that understood my situation and it had never judged me.

Two coffee servings would be used to make one good cup of coffee and after I had ate all my food and drank coffee; I would go to the tuck shop next door to buy 3 tubs of ice cream, 4 packets of samba chips, a packet of jelly sweets and barbequed pretzels to add a bit of salt to all the sugary delicacies. I would devour my heart into everything that went into my mouth.


I know…I should’ve been ashamed of myself for being so disgustingly fat. I allowed my piggish eating habits to get the better of me.

Oh and I have an older sister, so when my sister’s friends came by for a visit, I would run to my bedroom. All they would ever hear was TV sounds. Mom bought me a small color TV and it was my only it was my BFF.
I love my sister deeply, she’s a beautiful extrovert. Let’s just say that she’s the complete opposite of me.

Dominique was his name. He and his friends always came to visit my sister and her three friends. Three boys and three girls, this was the set-up. My sister always made them sausage rolls, fresh from the oven and they’d always insist to chill in the kitchen for boys will always be boys.
I’d occasionally go into the kitchen to throw away paper wrappings of all the junk I ate from the first moment I got home. I also had a strategy to avoid my sister’s friends. I made sure they never got the chance to see what I looked like. Whenever I heard them in the kitchen I would stay in the bedroom and once I heard none of their voices, I quickly went to the kitchen. On this particular chilla’s afternoon which my sister hosted, I accidentally I walked into the kitchen.

Everyone caught a glimpse of me and I couldn’t slip away.
Dominique, the handsome Dominique, sat near the kitchen window where the contours of his well trimmed hair sparkled in the sun’s reflection. Words can’t quantify how handsome that young man looked…well he stopped me in my tracks and said: “No, no, no girl, you don’t always have to run away when you see me. I’m Dominique.”
Of course I knew who he was; I’ve always admired him from a distance.

I was so embarrassed of our introduction to each other that I did not know what to do with myself. My reply was only a smile accompanied with my head down. That was a reflex move followed by an outbreak in the kitchen.
Amazed by the awkwardness I had caused, my sister and her friends stared at me for a while until I ran back into my bedroom hating myself for being seen as an obese freak by “the cool bunch.”